


This is Not Avalon

by ThousandSunFury



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, gratuitous lack of research, psychiatric abuse probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 14:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11969625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThousandSunFury/pseuds/ThousandSunFury
Summary: Greall Twr Mental Institution in southern Wales is home to Merlin and Arthur, who are not in fact Merlin and Arthur. They must deal with injury, separation, emotional trauma, and an untrustworthy doctor, all the while having to battle their disconnect with the world around them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in 2012 for nanowrimo and then lost the file before i could finish, im posting it so i dont lose it again because its still the longest thing ive ever written but like. its the edgy and poorly-researched tragedy porn you'd expect from a 15 yr old trying to write a novel about a psych ward in under a month with limited internet access so like... so many warnings for everything a person could possibly get wrong about that.
> 
> currently i have no plans to come back and finish this, but i have a pretty solid outline for how it ends so who knows.

“How can I help you?” An apathetic teenager murmured from behind the counter of a rundown off-license. She continued chewing her gum and otherwise ignoring Arthur and Merlin as they entered her shop. They walked up to the counter warily, looking around as if they had no clue where they were or how they got there. Arthur was blonde and handsome and had an air of being in charge that was hard to ignore. Merlin was pale and thin with thick black hair and the palest blue eyes which pierced your soul; he looked as if he could have been 30 or 12 but you wouldn’t dare ask his age.

“Do you have any horses for sale?” Arthur inquired politely.

“Mate, you can’t have a horse.” the apathetic teenager remained apathetic.

“Do you mean you don’t have any horses, or do you mean that we are not allowed to purchase one?” Merlin asked, not really helping the girl understand any better.

“No we don’t have horses! This is an off-license, we sell crisps and beer and Coca-Cola, and horses aren’t cheap ya know, so even if I had a horse I wouldn’t be selling to you lot. You look like you could barely afford a kick scooter from Tesco.”

“I’ll have you know I’m the King of Camelot, this disrespect will not be tolerated.” Arthur really didn’t see any reason for the girl to have been so angered by a simple question. As far as he knew it was completely rational to ask for a horse in a village stall; where else would they be sold without going to a farmer directly.

“Right, you’re hilarious, buy what you’re buying and get out.” She got out a flat shiny block with the top side glowing an unnatural blue-white. On the bottom of the block was an image of an apple and from one side protruded a smooth, thin rope that split into two with a rosebud shaped object on the ends. The girl placed the rosebud shapes in her ears and started doing something to the glowing side.

“What is that?” Merlin asked incredulously as he stepped in front of Arthur to protect him. “Arthur, get back.”

“I’m not getting back, Merlin.”

The girl waved the object at Merlin and had a look on her face like she had thought of the cleverest prank. “It’s a magical device that boils the skin of anyone not wearing the protective plugs when I say the magic words!” At this, Arthur pulled out a sword she hadn’t seen behind the counter and pointed it at her. Merlin started to incant a complicated spell to disable the device while there was a chance. The girl tried to hide a movement that flipped a lever that had no obvious effect, but Merlin saw out of the corner of his eye.

“Why are you doing this?” Arthur asked, still pointing his sword at the girl.

“I’m not doing anything, please it was a joke, I’m sorry!” The girl was terrified, she must have been acting for someone else more powerful, but before Arthur could do anything, Metal carriages with more unnatural lights flashing in red and blue rolled up to the stall.

“Are these the sorcerers who employed you? We will deal with them. Threatening your king is not a joke miss. Now, I am sure we will have no further trouble from you.” Arthur took the glowing box from the girl as he grabbed Merlin’s arm and pulled him out of the building into the rain and flashing lights. 

A group of men in bright yellow uniforms reading ‘Heddlu’ surrounded Merlin and Arthur. A voice called from one of them “Drop your weapons and put your hands up, or we will be forced to shoot.” Merlin now realised a few of the men were holding small boxes with glowing light at the end, these were different from the girl’s magic block, but they didn’t look like any kind of crossbow he had seen. He decided the risk wasn’t worth it and nudged Arthur’s elbow- a silent message to listen to the Heddlu men. Arthur reluctantly dropped his sword and raised his hands.

 

“We got a couple of loonies for you, Morgan.” Arthur and Merlin were in the back of one of the metal carriages listening to a Heddlu man named Rhys talk through a magic box like the girl’s. They couldn’t make out the distinct words emanating from the box but it was definitely a voice. They had first been brought to a place full of the Heddlu men where they had been asked over and over again what their names were and what they were doing in the shop and none of the men would believe them. Now they were being taken somewhere Rhys said they would get help, ‘Maybe,’ Arthur thought, ‘they were being taken to a farm selling horses, or even directly to Camelot in this metal carriage.’

“Yeah, we’re sure. They think they’re King Arthur and Merlin… Well we can’t get them to say otherwise and they were trying to enchant Claire down the shop brandishing swords and all… I know it’s late, but look the cell is filled with drunkards already and there’s no room for them… just take them for the night, run some tests or whatever you do and if they’re playing a prank you guys will know……”

“What does he mean ‘think’?” Arthur hissed, he was still angry and being confused didn’t put him in any better of a mood. He liked to know exactly what was going on all the time.  
Merlin shook his head, “I know no better than you. Have you ever heard of Heddlu?”

“No, I assume he’s some new lord or he would have a crest for his knights to wear.”

“Are you sure they are in fact knights? They don’t seem to wear any armour.” Merlin was really no less confused than Arthur. None of the magic he had seen that day was any kind he knew or had heard of, these knights served a lord he had never heard of, and he’d never been anywhere it was so difficult to get a horse!  
While the two were talking they had stopped paying attention to Rhys’s conversation with the woman through the box. He had hung up and the metal carriage had arrived at the building where they would supposedly get help.

Greall Twr Asylum was a quaint little facility with yellowing paint and small windows. Sometimes one couldn’t tell whether it was named for the castle on the hill, or the other way around, but somehow it was still in use. Of course none of the dangerous patients remained there for long; they were sent to a nicer, more secure hospital in the city. Rhys opened the door and let Merlin and Arthur out. They were brought into the building and given almost no information on how they were supposed to get help, or how a place offering asylum would help them get back to Camelot.

A tall woman in a blue dress met them at the door. She introduced herself as Morgan Poma, the head psychiatrist. “We’re going to go to my office for a bit, we don’t normally do this so late, so we don’t have the right rooms set up, I apologise. Rhys was telling me about you and I want to get to know you, is that okay?” 

She seemed polite, but for some reason Arthur didn’t much like her. It was a feeling like he already knew her and they didn’t get along. He also discovered that it didn’t matter if it was okay or not because she was taking them to her office anyway. Merlin and Arthur were sat in large leather chairs in front of a desk, behind which she sat in a chair that swivelled on an invisible axis.

She addressed Merlin first. “What is your name?” 

Merlin was sick of this question but answered as nicely as he could. “My name is Merlin, milady.” She seemed surprised to be called ‘lady’ and told her to simply call her Miss Morgan. “My name is Merlin, Miss Morgan.”

“Do you have a surname? I need to have as much information about you as I can for this form.”

“Some people call me Emrys or Ambrose, but it’s an alternative name, not a surname.”

She nodded and scribbled on a piece of paper. “Age?” She asked finally, and Merlin shook his head. 

“Alright,” Miss Morgan now turned to Arthur and asked his name as she picked through the clutter on her desk and got another piece of paper. 

“I am Arthur Pendragon, Rightful King of Camelot and all Britons.” He lifted his head and his voice cleared of anger and confusion as he proudly announced his title. “I am 26 years of age.”

“Thank you,” She didn’t seem as impressed as Arthur thought she should have, but he put it down to his prior feeling of them not getting along. “Have either of you ever had any medical conditions or serious injuries?” Merlin said no, and Arthur named a few battle wounds he considered worse than the countless others. “What do you remember of the last week?” 

Merlin looked at Arthur and they both paled. They couldn’t remember anything specific; they were just travelling, returning from a quest. They couldn’t remember what the quest was for, when they had set off, who they had been with, anything. “What magic is this? You are causing us to forget ourselves!” Arthur shouted at Morgan as she calmly pressed a red button on the wall behind her. She seemed completely unperturbed by Arthur’s outburst, as if she sees things like this every day. “Do you do this to all who cross your door?”

Orderlies came into the room and dragged Arthur out still yelling at Morgan. “I think you and your friend should stay here for a while, Merlin.” she ticked a box on each of the forms and sent Merlin out of the office.

“You will not hurt him. If you do, I will know and you will not enjoy the consequences.” Merlin swore in a low voice. Morgan’s state of calm broke as she looked into Merlin’s eyes and she was briefly frozen in terror.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it might be worth mentioning that because i wrote this initially for nanowrimo, i might have things about the side characters, like gwen in particular seems really out of character woops but merlin and arthur seem mostly the same so

Arthur and Merlin had been at Greall Twr for 3 years now. This was longer than most patients ever stayed; anyone who needed long term care or wasn’t sanctioned usually left for Camlann Mental Institution after a year at the most. Because of their long stay, some patients decided Merlin and Arthur must have been born there. Others even thought they were nurses. Treating them turned out to be near impossible, so Morgan had settled for letting them believe the asylum was Arthur’s kingdom and the other patients his to rule. At least that way the pair wouldn’t go around scaring everyone witless.

They had quickly become the leader of a sort of clique- the nurses disapproved but it was too late to separate them now. It was Friday and all six were in the queue impatiently waiting for bangers and mash, the Friday delicacy. “I think we should go on a quest today.” Arthur announced to Merlin and Gavin while pushing Gwen off his arm and ignoring her persistent questions.

“And where would we go on this quest, sire? Morgan has enchantments blocking our escape from this building.” Merlin was not in a questing mood today, he really just wanted some food before he had to do any thinking.

“Well we’ve never been to the castle on the hill, I’m certain there’s some treasure or artefact there, perhaps one that can help us out of this predicament.”

“I think a quest is a great idea!” Gavin pitched in, a half-eaten carrot causing him to mumble, “We haven’t been on one in ages.”

“What do you think, Lancelot?” Arthur brought in his other right hand to back him up.

“Hmm, about what?” Lance and Percy were engrossed in their own conversation and hadn’t been paying attention.

“A quest, what do you say?” 

“Depends what the quest is really,”

“Well I was telling Merlin, we should try to retrieve the artefact that resides in Greall Twr.” Arthur explained for the second time.

“Can you do that? I mean is it safe? Isn’t it locked? How will you get out of the hospital? And how will you get back without being seen?” Gwen was ecstatic; she’d only been there a month and hadn’t been around for the last quest.

“Don’t get over-excited, Gwen. Calm down. It’ll take some planning but I bet we can do it.” Lance was the noble type; he had schizophrenia, but it wasn’t severe enough that he needed to stay in a dingy asylum. Despite being told this by every one of his doctors, he didn’t want to risk hurting anybody and stayed of his own will. He put his hand on Gwen’s shoulder and steered her towards their table as she caught her breath. “But,” he began as he sat down, “We do need to have a plan.”

“The window in the lounge…” Merlin suggested. He got some food eaten while everyone was talking, and had come around to the idea of a quest. “The latch is broken so it doesn’t lock.” 

“Bit small isn’t it?” Percy was the largest of the group; he used to be in the military and had kept his fitness up when he got out.

“Not if you go sideways. Once one person gets over they can help everyone else.” For being so against the quest at all earlier, Merlin was really starting to take to the idea. “It has to be someone strong, so Gawain should probably go first.”

“I’m strong.” Arthur glowered at him.

“Yes, but you’re also the king. We wouldn’t want you to fall on your thick skull and forget something important now would we?”

“Right, right. So Gawain goes out first, and helps everyone else on their way out. Gwen I assume you won’t be going with us; will you keep lookout?”

Gwen nodded profusely. “Yes. Definitely.” 

“Are we going to do it tonight?” Percy managed to get his question out before Gwen remembered any more words for yes. 

“Well we’re hardly going to do it in broad daylight.” Merlin quipped as he stood up.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Yes, we’ll go tonight.” He tapped Merlin’s elbow, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask around and see if anyone knows anything about the tower or the artefact. If there’s anything guarding it we’ll need to be prepared.”

“By ‘around’, do you mean Kay?”

“Yes, He knows the town’s history and legends better than anyone.” Keller was the only one who wouldn’t play along with whatever Arthur said instantly, but he would always come around eventually. This meant Arthur wasn’t over-fond of him, but he had been a historian before he became convinced his secretary was a ghost and refused to leave his office, so he was a good source for information on the castle.

“Well don’t get your nose stuck in a book and forget to come out,” Arthur looked at the group; “We’ll meet at 9:30 and leave at 10.”

Merlin dumped his rubbish and left his now empty tray on the designated table on his way out of the canteen. He walked towards his room and turned down into the longest hall, at the end of which was Keller’s room.

“Merlin?” Keller’s jovial voice called from his room when he saw Merlin.

“Hi, Kay. I have some questions about the castle; do you know anything about it?” Merlin walked in and sat on the end of the bed where Keller was writing something with a pen that was running dangerously low on a sheet of printer paper with a torn corner 

“Well I know it was strategically more important than most small towers since it’s on a hill; Both Caerleon and Cardiff are visible from the battlements on a good day. But I don’t think you want tactical stuff do you?”

“Arthur is taking us on a quest; we want to find the artefact hidden in it.” Merlin explained. “We need to know what it is and what’s protecting it.”

“I see. Keep in mind I’ve only gone in once. This is really more a pub tale to be honest, so take it with a grain of salt, but some people say there’s a crystal chalice hidden in a stone on the battlements. Supposedly if you drink water from it, your wish will be granted. Personally I think it’s rubbish because if there were a crystal chalice, it would have been found or destroyed by now.”

“Alright. What about the castle itself? Is there any specific dangers or guards we should know about?”

“Here look.” Keller set aside his writing and got another piece of paper from the drawer and tore the corner off. 

He sat next to Merlin and drew a rectangle with a small square jutting out from one corner. He lined the square with a little zigzag “Those are meant to be steps; sorry I’m not the  
best artist.”

The ink continued to jitter and fade in and out as Keller added battlements, a spiral staircase in the opposite corner from the square, and the walls dividing corridors and chambers on each level of the tower. He highlighted points where the walls and floor could be weak and points that were definitely safe. By the time the pen had run out of ink Keller had given Merlin a comprehensive picture of Greall Twr and all its dangers.

“So there are no enchantments or beasts or…?” Merlin tried to think of other things that might guard a castle that was the home of a powerful object.

“One drunkard once told me he’d seen a dragon, but dragons don’t exist, unless you count dinosaurs.” he laughed. Merlin looked worried, he’d never heard of this Dinosaur creature but it didn’t sound friendly. “Don’t worry, to my knowledge there’s never been any dinosaurs in Wales.”

“I’ll keep my eye out none the less.” Merlin stated warily

“Are you sure you should be doing this? I mean if Morgan catches you again you’ll all be in trouble.” Keller was always looking out for his fellow patients, sometimes when it was unwanted. “Are you going tonight?”

“OH! What time is it? Arthur said they’d meet at 9:30 in the front room.” Merlin gasped suddenly, grabbing Keller’s wrist to look at his watch. He’d gotten his nose in a book like Arthur said he would and forgotten the time. 

“You’re late.” Keller grinned apologetically. “If you hurry you’ll be able to grab better shoes and still not miss them.”

“No, I’m going barefoot so I can feel the magic.” 

“Well don’t cut your feet; those stones are jagged.” Keller shooed Merlin out of the room hurrying him to the lounge where he hoped Arthur and the company would still be waiting.

Merlin grabbed Keller’s map and ran back down the hall muttering ‘they won’t go without me’ over and over. He nearly ran into Gwen when he arrived and they were already gone. Thankfully, Gavin had stayed behind to help him through the window.

“Gawain! Thank the gods you’re still here, am I very late?” he tried to calm himself as he stepped up onto the sill and squeezed his head and shoulders through the window.

“Only a few minutes but you’d better hurry if you want to go in with Arthur, because he’s not going to wait.” Gavin helped Merlin the rest of the way through the window and after giving a short wave to Gwen who was dutifully standing guard, they bolted.

They shot across the street without bothering to look for metal carriages and began to climb the hill. The grass was wet and cold from the earlier rain and Merlin began to think perhaps this night was not the best night to climb to the top of a crumbling tower. With the sky moonless and full of clouds, seeing more than a few feet ahead was difficult, and it was colder than a reasonable summer night should have been- Merlin began to wish he had listened to Kay and retrieved a pair of shoes from his room. 

Squinting into the darkness with a torch, Arthur managed to catch sight of them from the castle entrance. “Hurry up, Merlin!” he called, “I told you not to get stuck in some lengthy conversation didn’t I?”

Gavin reached the top of the hill first and helped Merlin up the rest of the way. “Do you have any more of those torches, Arthur?”

Arthur handed Gavin a torch and dragged Merlin inside. “It’s kind of slippery so be careful. What information did you get from Kay in your horrifically long chat?” switching the map still clutched in Merlin's hand for a torch of his own.

“He says there’s a crystal chalice in the battlements and that someone might have seen a dragon or something he called a dinosaur.” Merlin pointed to the great hall on the map, 

“This whole room has a weak floor that won’t hold anyone unless they’re very light and stay around the walls. The wall on this floor,” he gestured to the general area around them and pointed to the wall dividing the two rooms, “is a support wall. Kay says not to lean on it in case the whole building falls on you.”

“That’s it? Don’t lean on the walls and don’t go into the great hall?” Arthur seemed unimpressed.

“Well he gave me considerably more but that’s the most important information. If we get to something troublesome of course I’ll share more but it’s mostly empty cubby holes and broken windows. I assumed you’d want to get looking?”

“Yes of course. The chalice is in the battlements you said?” Merlin nodded. “Percy, Gawain, you stay down here and watch for Gwen’s signal if there is one. Look around if you want but stay out of the great hall, you’re both too heavy. Lance, Merlin, we’re going to the top.”

“Did Keller give us a map?” Lance inquired. Merlin handed it to him to inspect. “So we go to the far corner, climb the steps in the square tower to the third level, then…”

“Cross the building again through the archer’s hall and go up the spiral staircase to the battlements.” Merlin offered. “Once you’re on the battlements you have to walk gently, the ceiling mightn’t be secure.”

“Yes, I was planning on sparring with Lance up there and then jumping up and down on the tower.” Arthur answered sarcastically. 

Lance laughed at that before Merlin glared back at him. “This is serious; if anyone gets hurt we’ll be locked down so secure, there’d no way we’d get a second chance to get the chalice. They’ll probably fix the lock on the window too, and unless one of you knows another way out…”

“Alright, I get it Merlin, I’ll be very careful on the battlements.” 

They had reached the third level of the tower and began making their way through the archer’s hall to the spiral staircase. It was a narrow hall which looked a lot less stable than Keller had let on, but there was no trouble most of the way across. 

Arthur and Merlin were leading and got to the end of the hall as quickly as they could, they didn’t want to stay there any longer than necessary. Lance, careful as ever was stepping cautiously from stone to brittle stone when only a few steps from the end, a stone suddenly gave way under his right foot. “LANCELOT!” Arthur quickly grabbed his arm before the whole floor of the corridor collapsed leaving a gaping hole which one most certainly couldn’t get back across. 

Arthur pulled him up and Lance brushed the small rocks and dust from his clothes as he gained his balance again. “So much for the archer’s hall. How are we going to get back down then?”

The three men were gathered at the base of the spiral staircase. “I think we might have to go across the great hall.” Merlin grimaced.

“I thought you said it was extremely unstable!” Arthur exclaimed. 

“It is, but there’s no other way down.”

“Great. Alright, on to the battlements, and maybe we can work out a better plan than going across the room that can only hold the weight of a small girl later.”

They silently made their way up the spiral staircase, Arthur first in line watching carefully for loose stones, Merlin intensely thinking over the map of the castle, and Lance frustratedly trying to make his torch turn on again after being knocked against the floor when he fell.

When they reached the top, Arthur sent Merlin around to the far corner, Lance to the closer corner on the right, and went to the left corner himself. Lance zipped over to the corner without dawdling this time, not wanting to fall again with no one near enough to catch him. Arthur concentrated on every little detail of the stones that seemed out of the ordinary, a trigger or mark of where the chalice might be. 

From Merlin's corner he could see over the hill where he had never looked before. There was a narrow river with mist freely floating in and around tall trees, blurry but vibrant and arranged perfectly as if in an impressionist painting. Merlin felt like as long as he lingered in the mist and the cold, adventuring with Arthur, nothing could hurt him.

He reluctantly peeled his eyes from the scene before him and squinted at the square blocks of the battlement. Directly in front of him, in the corner of the largest stone was a small, delicate carving of a chalice with Celtic swirls and dots on the cup and growing out of the bottom of the stem. Where the stone had been cut it was covered in dew and shimmered in the moonlight. He traced his long fingers along the grooves of the shape, wishing for all he could that this land hadn’t drained of magic and he could open the stone without damaging this delicate image. He decided nothing could be done for it and stood up. He whispered loudly, “Lancelot, Arthur, I might have found it.” 

Arthur picked his way across loose and jagged stones to where Merlin was standing. Merlin pointed to the carved goblet and stepped back. “Magic?” Arthur inquired. Merlin shook  
his head. 

Arthur slowly leaned down to pick up a largish rock and, checking for Merlin's approval, began to beat at the mortar keeping the stone in piece. Chips of century-old clay bounced back in his face as he diligently kept working. He continued for what felt like hours to Merlin but was probably five minutes at the most, achieving little but a pile of dust at his feet and several tears in his grey hospital issue t-shirt.

Lance was still hanging back waiting for an opportunity to get across the walkway while the stones weren’t being attacked. He rushed over when Arthur broke from his barrage. “I think Gavin has a hammer.” He suggested.

“That would be helpful. Merlin you know the map best, go fetch Gawain’s hammer. I’ll keep working here, and Lancelot, you grab a rock and help me here.”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin obeyed and made his way down the spiral staircase, carefully stepped along the edge of the great hall, and down the last stairs to the ground level. Percy stood stock still just outside the entrance watching for Gwen’s signal, and Gavin sat next to him banging the back of his head against the wall in boredom.

“Merlin! Did you find it?” Gavin perked up at the sight of Merlin coming down the last few steps of the square staircase. 

“Possibly. We found a stone with the image of a chalice carved into it; we just need to break it loose so we can get inside.”

“Well then what are you doing back down here? Did you get in trouble with Arthur?” he joked.

“Uh, no.”, Merlin laughed, “Lancelot said you might have a hammer?”

“I think I brought one.” Gavin turned to his backpack in the corner and dug through every pocket, spreading the items he deemed unuseful across the floor, creating a minefield of torches, extra runners, bandage boxes, and countless other knick-knacks and devices. “Percy, where did you put my hammer?”

“Hmm?

“My hammer.”

“I haven’t seen it; did you bring it with you?”

“Obviously not, sorry Merlin.”

“That’s alright; Arthur and Lancelot are probably getting along with the stones fine anyway.” Merlin turned to go up the stairs and began the ascent once more, Gavin still shuffling around in his pack.

He had made it up the first staircase and was just across the great hall when he heard Gavin shout after him, “Hey, Merlin, I found it!” His cheerful face popped out from the staircase grinning innocently, “It was in my coat.” 

Without a thought in his head he bounded after Merlin across the hall, wearing a toothy smile. Merlin barely had time to shout “Gawain, don’t!” before the floor collapsed where he landed, leaving a hole that- under any other circumstances- Merlin would have laughed at its perfect roundness. 

He carefully knelt beside the hole at what he hope was a safe distance and tried to peer through to Gavin. Percy had rushed to his side and was looking over him. He looked up and squinted into Merlin's torch light, “He’s unconscious and it looks like he’s got a broken arm, but he should be ok if we get him back quickly.”

“We’ll have to call a nurse up here and explain what happened.”

“I’m afraid so. We’ll find a way back Merlin I’m sure of it, but we can’t leave him. He might have a concussion or internal bleeding, I can’t tell without any instruments or good light.”

Percy looked sincerely apologetic and Merlin wanted Gavin to be safe, but he was disappointed. He had been so excited at the sight of the chalice carving, and couldn’t bear to just let it go. “I’ll go get Arthur and Lancelot then.”


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin and Arthur sat once more in the oversized leather chairs of Morgan’s plush office. The room seemed somehow less chaotic and confusing than when they had first sat here more than three years ago, but Morgan was no less intimidating when angered.

“What was your goal in going out to Greall Twr? What did you mean to achieve?” Normally these kinds of questions were asked in a supportive and almost patronising tone, in hopes of coaxing the ears they fell upon into giving up their secrets. This time, however, Merlin and Arthur were very much in trouble and if they were in any doubt before, the tone of Morgan’s words gave it away instantly.

“We were retrieving the crystal chalice.” Arthur was tired and found it hard to speak to Morgan without becoming angry. “We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, Gawain was warned of the dangers before we left, and of the floor in that room being unsafe. He was merely careless with his step.”

“One of my patients is now in a coma because he was wandering around in an incredibly dangerous ruin because his friend thinks he’s King Arthur and convinced him to go on a quest.” she hissed. Her coal black hair fell into her face as she leaned forward and glared at Arthur, “And you claim this wasn’t your fault?”

“We are not entirely innocent, but we are also not wholly at fault.” Merlin did his best to speak with no emotion. He was worried for Gavin and did feel guilty for his injury, but he wouldn’t dare let Morgan know that.

“Please tell me, Merlin, what part of this wasn’t your fault.”

“As Arthur already said, Gawain was told to stay out of the great hall because it was unstable; he forgot.”

Morgan visibly restrained herself. “Gavin. Is. A. Manic. Depressive. He does without thinking.” She said through gritted teeth, “THAT is why he is here in the first place. So that he doesn’t do stupid things and get himself or someone else hurt!”

Arthur fiddled with her nameplate awkwardly. “I was on the battlements when Gawain fell.” He thought perhaps this could explain that he had nothing to do with Gavin’s injury.

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING ON THE BATTLEMENTS!?” any control Morgan might have had over herself was gone. She was furious. Her outburst only provoked Merlin into an outburst of his own.

“HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO HELP PEOPLE WITH ILLNESS OF THE MIND WHEN YOU HAVE SUCH A TEMPER? If you want anyone to respect your wishes you must give them a REASON to do so. I am having no more of this and we are leaving.” Merlin stood Arthur up and left without a word. Arthur threw the nameplate at the floor and followed him as it shattered.

 

The next morning, Keller accompanied them to breakfast and they sat at their regular table. “I take it your quest didn’t go well?” 

“No, Kay it didn’t. This is evidenced by the fact that one of us is in a coma and everyone is in a bad mood.” Arthur was still angry at Morgan and was not willing to discuss the event with Keller of all people, who didn’t even do what he was told.

“My apologies.” Keller pursed his lips and remained uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the meal.

“I don’t even like oatmeal.” Merlin said, hoping to lighten the mood. Instead he received glares from most of the table and from the cook with frighteningly good hearing.  
Arthur left his bowl untouched and left for his room “Don’t follow me.”

As Merlin rose, Lance asked “Where are you going?”

“I’m following him.”

 

“I said I wanted to be alone.” Arthur mumbled when he saw Merlin come in. 

“I’ll hang by the doorframe then shall I?” Merlin smiled. “You know, it really wasn’t your fault. He’s going to be fine.”

“I know it wasn’t my fault.” Arthur snapped.

“Is that why you’re pouting?” 

“I am not pouting, I don’t pout.”

“Mhmm.”

“I don’t like my men getting hurt,” Arthur conceded, “It’s my responsibility to protect them. Even if it’s not my fault it happened, it’s my fault I didn’t do anything about it.”

“There was nothing you could have done.” Merlin sat down next to Arthur “The only thing anyone could have done was stop him stepping into the room; how were you supposed to do that from the battlements?”

“I was putting a goblet before all of your safety. I’m beginning to think there isn’t even a ‘crystal chalice’ there. Who would put a goblet in a stone so that no one could retrieve it anyway?”

“This won’t make you feel any better, but Kay said the drawing I found was probably just an elaborate mason’s mark.” 

“So we did all of that because someone saw a mason’s mark and told a tall tale in a tavern when he got to town?” Arthur put his head in his hands once more, exasperated. How could they have been so foolish?

“So it seems.”

Percy peeked his head into the room. “Am I interrupting?” Merlin and Arthur shook their heads. “There’s an announcement, Morgan wants everyone in the front room.” Arthur assured Percy they’d be there as soon as possible and he left.

“This can’t be good. It’s probably about us.”

“Almost definitely. Let’s make sure they regret it.” Arthur stood up and held his hand out to help Merlin up. Merlin took it with a heavy sigh and they left.

 

Morgan was standing in front of the moving picture box trying to quiet the crowd of patients waiting to get back to watching Miss Marple. As soon as she achieved relative silence she spoke: “I am bringing in a new psychiatrist, so some of you may have to switch doctors, I am sorry for the inconvenience. His name is Martin Warlow and he will arrive in three days, I want no trouble for him, and I want you to all accept him as a new member of our Greall Twr family.”

Someone called out of the crowd, “Hurry up, Coronation Street is on next!” A cheer of agreement rang out and it was clear that Miss Poma’s time was up. She raised her hands in defeat and stepped aside, allowing the first shouter to frantically grab at the remote and turn the moving picture box back on as she weaved through the crowd to lurk in her office once more. 

The patients who were more interested in their own business than that of the fictional characters who had replaced the grey and white fuzz quickly dispersed to all corners of the asylum. Only a few people besides Arthur and Merlin's group remained in the lounge, completely focused on the television, chess games, or the dust in the sunlight.

“I don’t like him.” Merlin had an overwhelming sense of dread over the new doctor. He was unable to determine what it was from, but he’d rather not find out. 

“He’s not even here yet.” Arthur replied.

“But you know why he’s coming, and do you really think he’s going to take kindly to us?”

“No.” Arthur shook his head and sat in one of the flower-printed chairs; the ones here were considerably less comfortable than the large leather chairs in Morgan’s office. Arthur had discovered in the first week that most of the asylum wasn’t half as nice as the foyer and Morgan’s office had made it seem that first night. You would only pick up on it if you were a resident; Morgan made very certain that any area a member of the public might see gave a glowing impression of her hospital. “We should give him a chance though; we can’t immediately dismiss him because Morgan brought him in. That’s exactly what she would do.”

“And what’s wrong with that? She seems to get what she wants.”

“Getting what you want her way never pays off. If this Dr. Warlow character does turn out to be against us, there’s nothing we can do without breaking our own rules.”

“How many times, Arthur, have I said I have a bad feeling about something and you ignore me only for me to end up being right?”

“Countless, I know. But I will always say the same thing: I have to have a good reason; my decisions can’t just be based on your whims. I do listen to you, but I don’t have to agree with you.”

“Except that you do agree with me, so why are we sitting here pretending it’s going to be fine?” Merlin was becoming desperate; he couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to his friend. He didn’t even care if something happened to himself, but it was his job to advise and protect Arthur, just as it was Arthur’s job to advise and protect his men and his kingdom. Surely Arthur couldn’t argue with that.

“We aren’t. I know it’s not, but no matter what he does to us, no matter how not fine it is, there will be a time when it’s alright again and if we do something stupid we might not be there for it. The only thing we’re pretending is that there’s anything we can do in the first place.”

Merlin accepted his defeat. He knew Arthur was right, and even if he wasn’t there was no way he could convince him otherwise now that he had made up his mind. Arthur was too noble for his own good, and his stubbornness never made anything easier for Merlin. “When one of us gets hurt, it won’t be my fault.” Merlin whispered solemnly, almost wanting Arthur not to hear.

 

It was Tuesday, the day Dr. Martin Warlow was set to arrive, and arrive he did. The residents had barely left the canteen after breakfast when the tall dark-headed man strolled in, interrupting the drug round to give a speech as if he owned the place. 

“I’m Dr. Warlow,” his voice reminded Merlin of someone he he used to know before he and Arthur came to Greall Twr, but he couldn’t place him. “I’m sure you all want to get back to the drug round-” several patients booed at this sentence which was obviously directed more at the nurses; Warlow had to know most of the patients hated the daily break of normal activity to be forced to take horrible tasting medicines for ailments many weren’t even specifically aware they had. “-but I just wanted to introduce myself and make sure you all know me. I don’t think I’ll be staying here very long, so I doubt your routines will be altered much.” 

He stopped and stared directly at Arthur; Merlin didn’t like this gaze, it looked like a bemused doctor looking at a patient he didn’t understand, but it felt like malice and hatred and destiny, and Merlin wasn’t even on the receiving end. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like for Arthur, who despite his constant shell of arrogance and stubbornness looked terrified. It was in his eyes and though his face showed none of it, Merlin knew him well enough and he could see it clear as a flame on a hilltop on a clear-skied midnight.  
Merlin looked away from Arthur, not wanting to see fear in his friend’s eyes lest it spark fear in his own.

Martin continued, “Those of you who are switching doctors will of course be notified, and if anyone wants to speak with me, I will be supervising the lounge and the canteen with the nurses.” with a curt nod and one last all-but-vicious look at Arthur, he left the room. 

Merlin waited a few moments before slipping out of the quickly dispersing crowd and followed him. He needed to know where this new doctor’s office was. He felt it was important, though as with many things relating to Martin Warlow, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He waited at the corner before turning down the hall wherein the doctors’ offices resided, at the far end were the small, white, clinical rooms shared among all the doctors, but as you came closer to the beginning of the hall the rooms faded into offices, full of wood, leather, and floor-to-ceiling shelves, Morgan’s incomparably large office at the very top.

When Merlin peered down the hall, he saw that Warlow wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but the little used staircase door at the end of the hall was cracked, with the cobwebs in the corners torn. Merlin reasoned the Martin must have one of the upstairs offices, and went around to the clean staircase at the other end of the hospital. He climbed them on his toes, slowly, noiselessly, without a squeak from the linoleum or peeling rubber corners. 

He got to the top just in time to catch sight of Warlow unlocking the first office past the stairs. This was the nicest office besides Morgan’s; it had more of the same leather chairs and a large window looking directly out over the hill and the castle and if one really looked, they could even see a bit of the creek beyond Greall Twr.

Merlin's cheap canvas sneakers squeaked on the floor, now after all his slinking in and out from behind doors, corners, and cubby holes, his shoe squeaked on the step. Now he was given away, and Warlow turned his head. He grinned. “Ah, Merlin. I’m glad you’re here, I was going to ask you to come speak with me.”

“A good reason to leave then,” Merlin spat in sudden and overwhelming anger. He turned to go back down the stairs but Warlow stopped him.

“You don’t seem to have the best survival instinct, so let me give you a tip: it’s best not to anger your superiors on your first meeting. I’ll just speak with Arthur first.” Warlow closed the office door behind him without giving Merlin a chance to protest.

‘You are not my superior,’ Merlin thought at an imaginary Dr. Warlow in his mind, ‘I am advisor to the king and I am the most powerful sorcerer in all of Albion’s recorded history. Do not even begin to pretend you are my superior.’ He returned to the lounge briefly before going to his room to sit and think about his and Arthur’s predicament.

 

“Wait so while we were all in the lounge yesterday morning getting pills and shots and whatever we were given, you were following Warlow to his office? What were you doing that for?” Lance said over breakfast.

“I don’t know for sure, I just felt like I had to.” Merlin shrugged.

“Did he see you? Did he say anything? Did you get in trouble?” Gwen’s large green eyes stared at him worryingly.

“Yes, he basically said that he wanted to speak with me, but he’d talk to Arthur first. And he looked like I had angered him somehow, but I didn’t get in trouble so perhaps he just always has an angry sort of face.”

“He does,” Arthur put in, “he came to wake me up an hour early to tell me I would have to come to his office today, ‘at my leisure’ and then turned the light off and left again.” Arthur was incredulous.

“What was he even doing up that early? Nothing happens in here until 8 when the cooks come in to start food, and no one gets up until BBC Breakfast comes on at 9.” Percy had an extensive knowledge of the schedule of the asylum, especially the things that Percy didn’t have anything to do with. Merlin assumed it helped him distract himself from his memories of the war

“What if he was just setting up his office? He probably didn’t have time yesterday with all the nurses and doctors introducing themselves.” Gwen was always trying to look on the good side of people; sometimes it could be annoying, but it was sweet nonetheless.

“Whatever he was doing up that early, he didn’t need to come wake me up. Does he know there are announcement speakers he can use during the day when I’m already up?” Arthur was obviously out of other things to complain about, so he would keep mentioning this one thing throughout the whole conversation until he thought of something else, at which point, whether the subject had changed or not he would most certainly bring it up.

“Well I think he was trying to bother you, Arthur. Did you see him glaring at you yesterday after his little speech? His eyes were practically glowing with the amount of anger he was sending your direction, and he hadn’t even met you yet.”

“I’m not that hard to get along with. Don’t be such a pessimist, Merlin.”

“Of course I don’t think you’re hard to get along with, I think you’re wonderful, but that doesn’t mean everyone else thinks so. Besides, that wasn’t my point. My point was that it seemed like he was already set against you, so he easily could have woken you up simply for the sake of bothering you.”

“That would be very irresponsible for a doctor though wouldn’t it?” Gwen asked, looking at Percy.

“Absolutely, but unfortunately, not all doctors are responsible. And I don’t know much about psychology, but isn’t there something about breaking routines for certain patients being bad?”

“That’s what they told me, but I don’t know if it applies to Arthur.” Lance agreed.

“They don’t tell me anything.” Arthur shrugged. 

Merlin shook his head in agreement. “Nothing.”

“How do they help you then?” Gwen asked.

“I’m under the impression that Morgan has given up on us. Though I’m not certain what exactly about us Morgan has given up ON.” Arthur explained.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I mean you guys aren’t really-”

Lance clamped his hand over Gwen’s mouth with an embarrassed laugh. He whispered in her ear, “You’re not supposed to say that.”

“I’m not? Sorry.” She smiled at Arthur and Merlin as if the exchange hadn’t happened. Arthur looked at her for a moment with raised eyebrows. She was the silliest creature he had ever known, and he knew Merlin.

“Are you going to go to his office like he asked?” Lance asked to avoid any awkward conversations that might arise if Gwen kept talking.

“Absolutely not.” Merlin answered for Arthur, as if there was no question.

“You may be my advisor Merlin but you’re not my mouthpiece.”

“Well you aren’t going, obviously, so I just thought I’d clear it up in case you were thinking otherwise.”

“So you don’t want to figure out what his problem with me is? Because usually talking to someone is how you do that.”

“Arthur has a point.” Percy interjected pointing his spoon at Merlin.

“Alright, I’m sure you’ll be fine. But just talk to him, nothing else.” Merlin was not going to let Arthur go into this without some guidelines.

“What else was he going to do on his first proper day here?” Arthur said with a smile. Merlin glared. “Right. Yes sir.” Arthur stood up and began to leave “Will you deal with my tray?” At Merlin's nod, Arthur strutted out of the canteen and headed for Warlow’s office.

 

Arthur returned after about an hour and by dinner, a few of the other patients had had sessions with Dr. Warlow; word had got around about their general opinion. It seemed no one liked him. Merlin didn’t know whether to take that as a good thing or as a bad thing; he wasn’t the only person that had picked up on meanness from Warlow, so at least he wasn’t being paranoid, but on the other hand, if everyone disliked him there should be greater cause for concern.

Reports were that Warlow was brisk and indelicate. Several patients with severe phobias and sensitive conditions left the office in tears or the arms of an orderly. Arthur wasn’t telling what they spoke about, but he didn’t say more than a few sentences at all over dinner. He seemed to be thinking something over, maybe Warlow had insulted him, or maybe suggested something that had bothered him, but whatever it was Merlin was getting the feeling he wasn’t going to know until it was too late.

Merlin and Arthur’s rooms were right next to each other thanks to a specific request in the beginning when Morgan was still afraid of Merlin. Merlin reached his door first after the pair silently left dinner and began to enter before stopping and turning to Arthur. He was done anxiously waiting for news of Arthur’s meeting with Warlow, and he was fed up with Arthur’s moody silence, contemplative or otherwise. “Arthur what did he say to you that made you like this?”

“What?”

“Warlow said something that bothered you, and you’re not exactly being subtle about it which means you want to talk, so spit it out.”

“No he didn’t say anything, I’m fine.” He lied.

“You know I can tell when you’re lying.” Frustrated, Merlin grabbed Arthur’s shirt and pulled him into his room. “Sit down and tell me what he said.” Merlin crossed his arms and looked directly into Arthur’s eyes, daring him to lie again.

“It’s really nothing.” Arthur tried to roll his eyes dramatically and leave but Merlin pushed him down again.

“You are not getting away that easy.”

“I’m not going to burden you with this.”

“You better burden me or you’re not leaving that chair ‘til next week.”

“And how are you going to keep me here?” Merlin wiggled his fingers in response, suggesting magic. “Alright I get it.”

“Well first he said Morgan’s been letting us off too easy, and that he’s going to change that now that Morgan has given him full control over our case. And he went on to say that the doctor’s here have been treating us together as a pair and that it’s apparently ‘detrimental to our delusions’ so he’s going to interview us together once and decide what to do about it.”

Merlin tapped his chin chasing this information around his head, trying to determine what Warlow really meant behind the political way of speech. “Anything else?”

“He also said that when Gawain wakes up, we won’t be allowed to see him or speak to him.”

“That’s not really allowed, surely? How are they going to stop us?”

“Full unquestionable control.” Arthur repeated, making air quotes.

“Okay. Let him do his interviews, but we’ll not say anything but yes, no, our names, basic things. He won’t be able to get much from that.” Merlin sat on the end of the bed and continued thinking silently for several minutes.

“But I’m sullen and quiet.” Arthur interjected sarcastically, bored of waiting in the quiet room.

“Shush, patience is a virtue. I’m thinking.” Merlin shooed him away with a brief wave.

Arthur stood up, thinking himself finally free of the plastic chair in the corner, and patted Merlin's shoulder on the way out, “Sleep on it, okay?. We’ll talk in the morning.” He left Merlin sitting on the bed, fingers steepled and deep in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i literally had no idea how hospitals worked huh


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warlow is Mordred by the way, his name is a lot less obvious so

Merlin woke up on the floor. ‘I must have fallen off when I went to sleep,’ he thought, ‘actually when did I go to asleep? ... Oh, I bet I-’

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted when he saw Warlow standing at his door, arms behind his back and a smug grimace on his lips. “Merlin, did Arthur not say I wanted to speak with you?”

“What? When?” Merlin was still groggy and confused and sitting on the floor. He rubbed his temples and decided to ignore Warlow’s very existence until he had some tea.

“Why, Merlin, are you feeling a bit tired? It is awfully early for you to be up, it’s only just 6.”

“I can get up when I want to.”

“Yes, certainly. Though, I don’t suggest sleeping on the floor to be a good habit.”

“I can sleep where I want to as well. Go away.” Merlin's policy of ignoring Warlow was starting off quite unsuccessfully. If he would just move out of the door then Merlin could go convince on of the cooks to give him tea. 

“Why would I want to go away? I haven’t given you my message yet.”

“Well give me your message quickly and then go away.” Merlin was really doing his best. Arthur probably would have shouted at him by now, so Warlow ought to be glad all he was getting as punishment was a vicious stare and the sight of Merlin having just woken up from a night spent on the floor.

“I did think you were cleverer than that, Merlin. I told you on the first day I was here I would speak to you.” He spoke slowly as if Merlin didn’t understand English. “I would like you to come to my office today. Whenever you want to show up is fine, but you will show up.”

“What makes you so sure?” Merlin tried to push him aside to get out of the room which was becoming increasingly stuffier the longer this half-conversation went on.

“Because Arthur showed up, because you can’t stand not knowing what I’m going to say, and because I told you to.”

“Well, I’ll consider it.” Merlin put on the best ‘I’m being polite because I don’t care enough to be rude, but don’t pretend I’m actually going to do what I’m saying’ face he could muster, as he managed to get between Warlow and the doorframe, dignity still more or less intact. 

“Glad we talked.” Warlow called after him as Merlin walked straight down the hallway finally mastering the practice of ignoring his new doctor. Considering he was a psychiatric doctor, trained in manipulating your thoughts and actions, Merlin thought that was rather impressive.

 

Merlin was still sitting at their table in the canteen hours later, having lost count of how many cups of tea he had drunk. When Arthur crept in quietly, it was still long before anyone else would be up.

“You’re up early.” He noted as he sat down next to him with his own cup.

“Our new doctor friend decided to pay me a visit at 6 in the morning.” Merlin offered in explanation.  
Arthur nodded. “Couldn’t get back to sleep?”

“Would you?”

“No. What did he say?

“Basically the same as he told you yesterday morning. I have to go to his office today. He really thinks he’s something special, I bet he’s from a noble family.”

“Besides the fact that I have no idea what you mean by that comment about nobles,” Arthur warned jokingly, “Sir Martin Warlow? That doesn’t sound like a lord’s name.”

“No, I suppose not. Maybe he was just wealthy then. Either way he acts like he’s supreme ruler of all he surveys.”

“I did get that impression, yes. It’s disconcerting.”

“It only bothers you because you’re the supreme ruler of all you survey.” Merlin rolled his eyes and refilled his cup.

“Exactly! I am; he just acts like it. Although being trapped here by Morgan does put a stint in my ruling capabilities.”

“Just a bit.” Merlin smiled and put down his cup, “I’m hungry now; I’m going to see if they’ll give me a piece of bread or something.” He looked at Arthur expecting him to ask for his own piece.

“You’ve been up for 2 and a half hours and you haven’t eaten anything?” he said instead. 

Merlin shrugged, “I didn’t want anything.”

 

Merlin sat in the over-stuffed flowered chairs in the lounge. He glanced across the room and out the window looking out towards the castle. You could only see the base, but just seeing the stones he desperately wanted to go back and get the chalice out of that stone, but he knew he probably wouldn’t get the chance. At least while Warlow was here, he would have to wait; he could only hope that Warlow wouldn’t become a permanent fixture at Greall Twr.

Lance was sitting in the window at the chess table talking cheerily to the air in front of him. Merlin stood up and went over to sit in the empty chair. 

Lance blinked, confused briefly before he smiled at Merlin unconcerned. “Hey, Merlin! Do you want to play a game?” 

“No, I don’t know how to play. Arthur has told me it’s based on war, but he can’t explain it very well. He starts comparing it directly to real battles and I get lost.”

“You really just need to know how each piece moves. The specific strategies and such can come later. I can teach you.”

“Alright.”

“Well this,” Lance picked up a small piece with a sphere on the top, “is called a pawn. He can move two spaces forward on his first play, but one space forward any other time. He can only attack diagonally.”

“Okay.” Merlin nodded his understanding and picked up the horse-shaped one. “What about this one? It’s always been my favourite.”

“That’s a knight. He moves in an L-shape, and it’s the only piece that can jump over other pieces.” Lance went on like this divulging the secrets hidden behind the ebony-black wood of each character until every piece had been explained but one.

“No piece is unimportant, but likewise, no piece is inexpendable. Except this one,” he picked up the tallest piece, “the King. When the king falls, the game is won and lost.”

At this, Merlin's eyes widened. He seemed to be bothered by something. He bit his lip, and opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. 

Lance was always able to tell if Merlin was troubled, but usually kept it to himself. He had a feeling it was probably to do with Warlow, so he chanced to ask, “What is it, Merlin?”

“If something happened to Arthur, what would we do?”

“What would happen to Arthur? Everyone’s safe here. Gavin’s only hurt because we were all careless, but besides him have you ever seen anyone in the infirmary with a proper injury?”

“Not before no, but I don’t trust Warlow.”

“I thought he might have something to do with it. I admit he’s a bit shady, but he’s still a doctor. He might be a bit harsh at times, but I’m certain he has all of our best interests at heart.”

“He hasn’t woken you up at six in the morning. You haven’t seen his smile when he does it.” Merlin shuddered visibly at the mere thought of Warlow’s smarmy voice and sly grin, “He’s evil, Lance.”

“Hmm,” Lance was thinking hard, searching for some option that could get rid of Warlow or at the very least get him off Merlin's mind. He hated seeing him upset- it didn’t sit well on his already long, angular features. “You could talk to Morgan about it. She might not know how he is; if you have a good enough reason she might get rid of him and bring in someone else instead.” He suggested

“No, she used to be scared of me, but now she’s realised she’s in control and she won’t give me an ounce of leverage. No, she won’t do anything.”

“I really don’t know what you can do then, Merlin. But if it’s what people said after appointments with him that’s bothering you, you have to remember: half the people in here are paranoid. There’s every chance that he’s a wonderful doctor who ended up with the most troublesome patients.”

“I trust Arthur’s opinion of him.” Merlin didn’t tell Lance about Warlow having unconditional charge over his and Arthur’s case. He didn’t tell him about Gavin either. He had no reason to, but he felt like it was something one didn’t tell, even to a close friend like Lance.

“And you should, but just don’t forget to make your own opinion too okay?” Lance really was genuinely concerned for Merlin, and he felt bad about not telling him everything. But he also felt like what Arthur had said last night about not burdening your friends was truer than he had given Arthur credit for at the time. Merlin wouldn’t burden Lance with this.  
So instead of letting the conversation continue until he was forced by his own selfish mind to say something he didn’t want Lance to have to worry about, he simply said ‘Yeah.’ and with a meek smile stood to go find Arthur.

 

Merlin was surprised to find Arthur still in his room. He had said he was going to go back to sleep again after tea that morning, but it was now almost 1 in the afternoon. Merlin had expected him to be out in the yard, using sticks as swords and sparring with Percy as was their habit. Merlin liked to watch them on occasion, but had no interest in participating. Sometimes Percy would get tired and go inside and Arthur would ask Merlin to pick up Percy’s ‘sword’ and join him. Merlin said yes only once, and it ended in bloodied fingers, a broken wrist, and more than a few slaps in the face with a small branch. He learned from that experience and now says no before Arthur even finishes the question.

“Arthur? Why are you still in here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“I thought you’d be with Percy.”

“No, he’s in an appointment. Speaking of which are you going to talk to Warlow?”

“No. He said I would go because you did, because I was curious, and mainly because he told me to. I’m going to prove him wrong.”

“Out of spite? Or for a better reason?”

“For a better reason, but also out of spite. He doesn’t deserve my respect, and I’ll not let him have the tiniest glimmer of belief that he has the power tell me what to do.”

“I honestly don’t think he does believe that.”

“And it needs to stay that way.” Merlin said with certainty and defiance in his voice. He wasn’t going to let Warlow take anything from him, no matter how small. If he had control over where he went in Greall Twr, he wouldn’t dare give Warlow the power to tell him to do anything, even if he wanted to do whatever it might be.

“You are right, Merlin. He doesn’t deserve our respect, and he certainly doesn’t deserve an ounce of power over us. But we need to know as much as we can about him.”

“Arthur, I’m not going to go.”

“I won’t order you. That would be unfair. But Merlin, we can’t waste a single opportunity to figure him out. Every one of these ‘meetings’ we learn a bit more about his weaknesses and strengths. We know how to hide ourselves from doctors we’ve been doing it for three years. What makes this one any different?”

“He’s just different. How can you not feel it? It’s like he already knows us. Every time I look at him I get this awful feeling like a memory I had finally managed to consign to oblivion is being pulled from its depth and back to the forefront of my mind. It’s a feeling like he’s hurt you before, but I can’t figure out how.”

“Merlin that’s ridiculous. He’s hardly someone you’d forget if you ever met him.”

“Exactly! I feel like I remember him! Maybe we hurt him somehow and he wants revenge! You’ve killed men in battle before, maybe he’s the son of an enemy or…I don’t know but there must be something!” Merlin was getting scared. Arthur didn’t often completely dismiss Merlin's instincts and there was always something else going on when he did.

“Alright well don’t you want to remember?”

“No! Not if he hurt you, and I know he did. I don’t want any part of that.” Merlin 

“Merlin just please, at least consider going.” 

When Merlin shook his head, Arthur stood up, obviously done with the conversation. He nodded to Merlin and walked out the doors, arms swinging by his side, practically whistling like there were no problems in his life, all was well, and he was having the best day of his life. Anyone who bothered to look closer would see quite quickly this was all an act; his eyes deep set and a darker blue than Merlin had ever seen them betrayed his true feelings the joyous glint usually shining in his eyes was gone. He was scared, and he was trying desperately to hide it.

“Arthur,” Merlin pleaded to Arthur’s deaf ears, “I will go if you want me too, but I don’t think I should.” Arthur kept walking.

 

Merlin was sitting on the carpeted floor, holding his knees tight, head against the wall. The heavy door now reading ‘Dr. Martin Warlow’ was closed and locked, relentlessly guarding the empty office behind its oak panels. Merlin didn’t want to be here, but he knew Arthur wouldn’t speak to him until he had left this office having had a lengthy conversation with the man Merlin had deemed an enemy to be avoided if at all possible. Merlin would have to sit in sticky fake leather chair across from the face that made him sick for possibly more than an hour. He didn’t know what he would have to talk about but he knew it wouldn’t be a friendly chat.

When Warlow appeared out of the relative darkness at the end of the hall, Merlin stood immediately and did his best to remain passive. He would give no information, no emotion, and allow no margin for error on Warlow’s part. If a single word was uttered that Merlin didn’t like, he had decided he would simply stand and leave wordlessly. He wouldn’t give Warlow the pleasure of seeing him frustrated or angered by his words.

“Merlin, you did come after all.” Warlow smiled in front of cold, calculating eyes, “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, well I don’t want to be here so you can stop feeling so successful.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m successful yet.”

“You wouldn’t.” Merlin remained emotionless.

Warlow unlocked the door and walked in, holding it open with an over-dramatic bow beckoning Merlin into his office. Merlin hadn’t seen this office before, and was shocked at its size and glamour. No office besides Morgan’s had this amount of real wood, polished and stained a dark cherry red. Never had Merlin seen a room with so much green, there was a green lamp on the desk, what wall was visible was painted the colour of a pool table, there were small patterned green accents covering the bookshelves, the sill and frame of the window were even painted a deep forest green. None of the rooms in the whole building had so large a window, with so beautiful a view. It looked right out onto the castle and river, and on a bright day, Merlin thought, one could probably make out the forest beyond. The only thing anyone could complain about, truly, was the subtle but definite smell of damp and the minute cracks in the paint, running a melancholic undertone carrying through the whole room, and making it seem almost pitiable in its state of disrepair. Merlin felt the room made a fitting metaphor for the man spending his days there.

“Please sit down, Merlin.” Warlow pointed to the chair, green leather with bronze pins along the trim; Merlin didn’t like it. He sat down cautiously, and stared at Warlow with judicious eyes. If he was sickened by the sight of Warlow’s face, it was only fair that Warlow should learn to detest the sight of Merlin’s own.

“What have we to talk about that you haven’t already discussed with Arthur?”

“Oh, Merlin, too much, far too much.” Warlow laughed briefly. 

“I am glad you can laugh at things so serious as my general welfare and health, but I fail to see the humour of my situation.”

“My friend you fail to see much.”

“We are not friends.”

“I suppose not.” Warlow narrowed his eyes, as if to decipher the code hidden in Merlin's. “What is your name?”

“You know my name.”

“I know one name by which you go. But what is your birth name, your real name?” Warlow leaned forward.

Merlin crossed his arms, annoyed. “Merlin. My name is and has always been Merlin. Why ask such a frivolous question?”

“Because a simple question can often be the key that unlocks an impossible puzzle. The simplest questions are often the ones we think of last.”

“That’s hardly true. This was your first question, and the first question of every other doctor I’ve spoken to. Apparently my name is of great interest to men of science.”

“Oh, it is. We only want to help you and Arthur, I hope you know that.” This was the first time Merlin had seen a genuine smile of kindness from Warlow.

“Help us how? We are happy as we are; we want no help from you.” Merlin's wall broke. He didn’t understand how Warlow could seem so slimy and viscous one minute and the next seem to honestly want to help. Merlin was confused and under pressure, and he didn’t think well when he was emotional.

“Want and need are two very different things. There is always an issue of happiness and self-esteem in cases like yours, but we do not wish you any harm.”

“Then WHY do you go around as if a great basilisk, hissing and spitting? Are we no better than experiments to you? You wish us no harm, but still you wish us no good. If we won’t be happy in the state you are trying to get us to, then how is that not wishing us harm?”

“You do make a valid point Merlin, one made by many who protest against the very existence of places like this. But I still must do my job, moral questions aside; it is my duty to cure you if I can. I believe I know how, and if it doesn’t work then that is a different issue, but until that point, I have to do what I think is best for you.”

Merlin was uncomfortable with Warlow’s sudden change of character. He had an image in his mind of a one-sided villain with an evil grin and a black heart. Now Warlow was forcing him to change this picture and Merlin didn’t want it. If he started thinking of Warlow as a human being what would he do? He couldn’t fundamentally ignore him then, Merlin was too virtuous.

“I think we should get to the session now.” Warlow announced with a clear difference in tone. Sincere doctor was gone, to be replaced by curious and invasive doctor, digging for your soul’s deepest secrets.

“If we must.” Merlin said, reluctantly agreeing without thought.

“Let us assume, for now, that you are not Merlin but are merely impersonating him.”

“That is ridiculous, I am Merlin, why pretend otherwise?”

“For the sake of argument.” Warlow pressed.

“Fine. I am not Merlin for some indeterminate reason. What now?”

“Since you are impersonating Merlin, what makes you him? What are you doing so that people know who you are?”

“I’m… I am. I advise King Arthur, and… well I can’t use magic so…” Merlin stammered. He considered enacting his plan now and just leaving, but felt somehow like he had to stay.

“Why can’t you use magic?”

“I felt it when Arthur and I first arrived. There is no magic in this land; it’s somehow been drained from the earth.”

“I see,” Warlow scribbled something in a notepad. “Well how do you know Arthur is who he says he is?”

Merlin couldn’t think of an answer. Arthur was just Arthur. There was no why or how, he just was. He shuffled in his seat awkwardly, hoping Warlow would quickly think of a question he could actually answer.

“Well we’ll come back to that question another day. What about your other friends? Gavin Wyrrd for example. Why do you not call him by his name?”

“Because he’s Gawain. Just because it’s spelled differently doesn’t make it untrue.”

“Hmm, and Percy and Lance?” he began scribbling again as he asked.

“Well their names aren’t even different, why are you asking that? Percy, Lance, and Gawain are Arthur’s knights. They don’t go on dangerous quests and fight in deadly battle because they just can; it’s their job. You said earlier it was your job to cure me whether you thought it was right or not. Well it’s their job to fight enemies for Arthur, as it’s my job to advise and protect Arthur in other ways, and Arthur’s job to rule his kingdom wisely.” Merlin felt this was a very proficient explanation for something he thought was really quite obvious. He didn’t understand why Warlow looked so fascinated by this, a simple statement of fact.

“Do you know whether they think it’s their job?” He asked with a bemused grin.

“Well, I admit they talk back a bit more than most knights do, but Arthur values their counsel and they know that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” More scribbling.

“No, I haven’t specifically heard them say ‘yes I am a knight and I get paid to do knightly things’ but do you say to your colleagues every day ‘I’m a psychiatrist, I cure illness of the mind’? I wouldn’t believe a man who declared his profession every time I spoke to him.”

“You are awfully clever, Merlin. If you ever get out of here, you really ought to try to get an education; you’d make a wonderful philosopher.”

“I thank you for your kind words, but I’d rather stay as Arthur’s advisor.” Merlin was internally stunned by the suggestion that there would be a day in his life when he wasn’t by Arthur’s side.

“Hmph,” Warlow put his pen to his lips, pondering over a nameless dilemma, “I can’t think of anything else to ask you at the moment, but we will talk again. Thank you for giving me a chance to help, Merlin.” He put the pen down and stood up. Merlin was relieved for the whole event to be over and clumsily rose from the chair to hurry out of the room, saying no more to Warlow.

Merlin stumbled down the stairs and turned the corner to his room, nearly bumping into the wall in his frenzied rush to get as far away as he could from anyone who might want to talk to him. He just wanted to sit in silence and not have to think about anything but the pattern in the popcorn ceiling.

 

The next day, no one mentioned seeing Warlow at all. Merlin assumed he must be hiding in his office, but he expected him to come announce his plans for Merlin and Arthur eventually. By dinner, they still hadn’t been approached and Merlin began to worry. What could Warlow be planning that took a whole day to be certain of? Merlin now knew Warlow had at least one good bone in his body, even if it was only a small one and relatively powerless. He was beginning to wonder if that was a masquerade after all and Warlow was spending the day completely certain of his next action, but purposely making Merlin and Arthur wait in agonizing suspense for the verdict.

Arthur and Merlin sat at their table in the canteen, wordlessly eating their food and mulling the same things around their minds over and over again. 

“What do you think he’s going to do?” Arthur finally spoke up.

“If only I knew.” 

Arthur nodded and they were quiet for a while longer. When Percy walked up carrying his own tray, he sat down and looked at the pair with raised eyebrows. “I’ve never seen you two so quiet over dinner. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Merlin didn’t look up.

“Oh, come on I know that’s not true. You let Lance teach you chess yesterday, you are NOT fine.” Percy laughed.

“You let Lance teach you chess? I’m teaching you chess!” Arthur exclaimed, highly offended.

“Badly. You just get distracted and start telling stories of battles you fought in, most of which I was in too.”

“Well you only had to say so.” Arthur huffed.

“I did. Multiple times.”

“Well he didn’t play a game anyway; Lance just showed him how the pieces moved.” Percy interjected.

“Well as soon as we get finished with this Warlow character we will be playing a game together, understood?” Arthur pointed a sarcastically accusing finger in Merlin's direction.

“Understood.” Merlin laughed.

“There see, a good laugh is all you need.” Percy brightened at the sight of his friend laughing. Silent dinners were so awkward, he was glad they wouldn’t be sulking the whole time after all.

“Well, we’ve still got major problems. But yes, I know what you mean.” Merlin was actually feeling better. A trivial chat with Arthur bantering back and forth about chess made a good break from all the serious conversations of the past several days.

He left dinner feeling calm and not at all worried about Warlow’s plan. He knew eventually he would have to face it, and it would probably be something awful. But he decided that that day was certainly not today, it could be a whole month away, so he wasn’t going to waste that time chewing his fingernails and questioning every move he made. He and Arthur would be hurt, so they ought to be happy now while they had the chance.


	5. Chapter 5

“I’M NOT GOING! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME GO!”

Merlin awoke early again to the sound of Arthur shouting something he could just barely make sense of through the walls. They were supposed to be soundproof but over the years had weakened and become increasingly less effective. In most cases where a patient woke screaming from a nightmare, or spent half the night conversing with a hallucination- as was frequent- they did fine, but Arthur had decided that no wall would be blocking his voice, and shouted as loud as he possibly could to make up for it.

A quieter voice Merlin thought was Warlow responded calmly. “You are going, and I have countless ways to make you go.”

“What if I just sit here in the corner and refuse to move? I won’t eat or speak or do anything! I’ll just sit!” 

‘Oh, no Arthur,’ Merlin thought, ‘don’t make that threat, they might hold you to it.’ He moved closer and placed his ears to the wall, not wanting to miss anything if someone started talking quieter, and ready to rush in if Arthur made any more ridiculous threats.

Warlow’s voice again, “I’ll have an orderly sedate you and we’ll carry you there unconscious. You won’t get to say goodbye, and you won’t get to bring any belongings with you. You won’t even get to speak to Merlin.”

“YOU HAD PLANNED ON NOT EVEN TELLING HIM UNTIL I’D GONE HADN’T YOU!?” 

“Not necessarily. If you choose not to go, he will go in your place.”

“But if I decide to go, you won’t tell him! He won’t even know! He’s going to wake up, not see me, and go looking for me everywhere, until eventually he thinks ‘maybe he isn’t here’ and then what do you think he’ll do?” Merlin could hear the tenseness in Arthur’s voice that was only there when he was absolutely outraged. He still couldn’t figure out what Warlow wanted Arthur to do, but if Arthur was this angry, it couldn’t be good. 

“The first thing he’ll do,” Arthur continued without giving Warlow a chance to speak, “Is go looking for you. And he won’t do anything you’ll like.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have. But your decision is obvious. You choose to stay here?” Merlin had never heard a man react so calmly with Arthur yelling in his face.

“Yes!” Arthur screamed, exasperated.

“So you’ll allow Merlin to go to Camlann in your place? You would rather he go to the facility you’ve never been to and not know whether he’s safe or happy?” Warlow must want Arthur angry, or he wouldn’t be asking such provocative questions. In Merlin's experience, getting Arthur angry didn’t often end well.

“NO!” Arthur barely let him finish, “I WANT US BOTH TO STAY WHERE WE ARE!”

“So you said when we talked on Wednesday, but that just isn’t an option.”

So Arthur was being sent to Camlann? Merlin hadn’t heard much about it, but he knew it was the big hospital in the city. And apparently Arthur had known about this for three days and not told Merlin, so he didn’t feel it was fair for Arthur to be mad at Warlow for that. But why didn’t he tell Merlin?

“Well Merlin isn’t going. I can’t let him be put in danger.”

“Then you have to go. You realise, Arthur, there is no other option. I cannot allow you to be near each other.”

“So if I go, I’ll never see him again? And he won’t see me?”

“That is correct.” Merlin thought about going in now and pretending not to have heard the whole conversation. He decided to give it another minute or so in case a mind was changed either way.

‘We won’t even get to speak?” 

“No phone calls, no letters, no correspondence of any kind.” Merlin heard Arthur make a small noise, like a whimper, but it was immediately cut short. It wasn’t like Arthur to get emotional, and hearing him, Merlin almost broke down himself.

“But Merlin will be safe.” Arthur spoke with such certainty that Merlin could practically see his solid nod of agreement, and he knew Arthur had made up his mind. There was nothing anyone could do now, Arthur would go to Camlann and that was the end of it.

Merlin heard Warlow’s footsteps clicking down the hall as he left. As soon as Merlin thought he was out of earshot, he crept into Arthur’s room where he saw him standing, fists clenched, just inside the door. He loosened a bit when he saw Merlin. “Did I wake you up?” he asked with a forced smile.

“Yes. What’s going on?” Merlin wanted Arthur to tell him exactly what was happening, holding on to the shred of hope that he had completely misunderstood the conversation he’d just heard. Arthur was merely moving to the next hall over, or upstairs. Arthur was easily angered, especially in the morning, maybe he just over-reacted. It was all Merlin could do not to forget all caution and light-footedness and just scream ‘Anywhere but Camlann.’

“Warlow wants me to go somewhere else.” Arthur paused, wondering whether to go ahead and tell Merlin, or save him the despair.

“You mean another room here.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.” Arthur breathed in heavily before continuing, “Another hospital.”

“No.” Merlin wouldn’t accept it. If Arthur thought there was any way to stop this going ahead he wouldn’t have told Merlin at all. Merlin couldn’t let Arthur say that; it would mean it was over. It wasn’t allowed.

“Yes. Camlann, in the city. He says I can’t ever see you again if I go.” Arthur was doing his best to put on a brave front, for Merlin's sake.  
Merlin looked up. Maybe Arthur hadn’t made his mind up after all. “IF? You can not go?”

“No.” he said stoically, “If I don’t go, you have to go. I can’t let you go to some unknown hospital where they’ll do who knows what to you when I won’t be there to protect you.” 

“Yes, you can. I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t let them hurt me, I know you’ll be safe here with all the knights, I can fend for myself if I need to, you know that.” Merlin wouldn’t dare cry. He wouldn’t. 

Arthur had once told him when a close friend died and Merlin was weeping for days that no one was worth his tears. Merlin had promised to be strong and he couldn’t let Arthur see him break that promise now when all was at stake.

“I know you can, but if they did something to you in that hospital, it would be my fault for letting you be there in the first place. There’s no question, I’m going.”

Merlin just shook his head, biting his lip. “No, no, you can’t.”

“I have to.” Arthur pushed Merlin's arms off his own and stepped back from him. “We’ll find some way to talk to each other, I promise.” he said at last.

“HOW? If they’re separating us, do you really think they will let us call each other?” Merlin gave up holding tears back, “They won’t even let us write letters!”

Arthur looked away. He couldn’t look at Merlin crying. He would need to remember his smile later if he was never going to see him again, and if he looked at Merlin now, this image would be his last memory. “How will they stop us? We can sneak into the office of whoever is in charge of the post and slip a letter into the box. Or we can sneak calls through empty offices.”

“If we get caught once, they’ll restrict our movements and we won’t even be able to do that.”

“But is it not worth the risk!?”

Merlin nodded. “What if we just ran away?” he suggested meekly after some time.

“What about the others? They’d get in trouble for us, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Who gives a damn if it’s fair!?”

“Merlin…” Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder calmingly, he couldn’t think of anything to say for a minute or two, “Warlow said it would only be a month. When we first spoke about it,”

“NO HE DIDN’T OR YOU WOULD HAVE SAID!”

“I wouldn’t have! I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t end up being true! This morning he didn’t mention it, so I - I don’t know anymore!” Arthur collapsed onto the floor roughly and leaned on the foot of the bed.

“You didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Merlin corrected him gently, realising it was useless to be angry at Arthur, this was all Warlow’s doing, and he would pay. Merlin silently vowed to himself that when Arthur returned- because he would return- Warlow would be gone, and Merlin didn’t care how he got rid of him. Merlin sat next to Arthur on the floor.

“Yes.” Arthur replied forlornly.

They sat together for a while before Merlin looked at Arthur and asked softly, “When do you have to leave?” 

“Today.” A single tear streaked down Arthur’s face and dripped onto his heather grey t-shirt, leaving only a faint reddish line as evidence that it was ever there.

“You’ll need to pack your things.”

Arthur shook his head slowly, “I don’t have anything they’ll let me keep.”

Merlin stood up wordlessly and motioned for Arthur to stay there. He went into his own room and crossed to the small particle-board dresser in the corner. He pulled something out of a small drawer on the top row, and returned to Arthur.

“This is a bracelet my mother gave me, I don’t remember it, but I know it was hers.” He tied around Arthur’s wrist a plaited leather bracelet which had a small metal charm twisted into the middle of it.

“I’ve never seen this before, why didn’t you show me?” Arthur held it gingerly as he examined the charm, which depicted a Celtic image of what was probably a hawk, but had worn away so that one couldn’t be sure.

“I don’t know, I suppose I thought it was childish.” Merlin shrugged.

“I can keep it?” Arthur looked up at Merlin, who nodded. “Thank you.” he beamed at his gift, content for now. He could have this until he returned, and then, he thought, he would give it back.

A nurse looked in through the door. Arthur thought her name was Anna, she was one of the nicer nurses. “Arthur, I’m sorry but Dr. Warlow has the car ready for you to leave now. He says you can have 10 minutes to say goodbye to everyone, but you have to hurry.”

“Thank you, Anna.” Arthur smiled weakly as she left. He wiped his eyes dry and stood up, visibly pasting an expression of stoicism on his face and left the room. Merlin followed just behind him. This was Arthur’s moment of bravery.

Arthur spoke briefly with Lance and Percy. Merlin heard him say his name a few times, but couldn’t make out the conversation. Gwen rushed over and all but jumped on Arthur with a great bear hug, tears welling in her eyes. Arthur pushed her gently off and asked her to calm down, he was fine, he would come back soon, etc. He waved at Keller who was sitting in the corner, not really interacting with the crowd, as usual. Finally, he walked back to Merlin for one last word.

“Merlin, don’t get hurt while I’m gone. And we’ll try to call on Friday if we can.” Merlin hugged Arthur tightly, and released him to go to the increasingly impatient taxi driver. “I won’t stay there for long, I’ll make sure of it.” He called quickly.

Merlin stood outside the front of the building and watched the taxi take Arthur away. When it had turned onto the main road, he sat down and remained there on the steps. He stayed there looking in the direction of the city for hours, not wanting to let go of Arthur; he had an unpleasant feeling that’s what it would be if he went inside now.  
It was going on 7 o’clock in the evening before he moved at all. Lance pushed open the creaking doors, and sat next to him. “It’s going to be dark soon, Merlin, you should come inside.” Merlin shook his head, no. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m not. I’m not tired either, I’m going to sit here until Arthur returns.” Merlin hadn’t planned on doing that, but now it sounded like rather a good idea. He would sit there until Arthur got back, and if he refused to move or eat, they would have to bring Arthur back for the sake of Merlin's health.

“Merlin, we don’t have any idea when that will even be. Come get some food, go to bed early, and tomorrow you’ll be yourself again.” Lance tried to pull Merlin up by his arm but he just sat down again. “Alright, I’ll bring some out here and eat with you, okay? I’ll be right back.” Lance left for a few minutes, and when he returned his arms were full with two plastic plates of pasta, spoons, a pitcher of water, and two small plastic cups. He handed a plate and cup to Merlin who set them down on his other side indignantly.

“Merlin, you can’t starve yourself to make them bring Arthur back. All that will do is convince Warlow even more that you need to be apart for a while.” Lance handed Merlin a spoon, “now eat.”

Merlin reluctantly picked up the plate of pasta and ate some, only in small bites. “I don’t feel well.” He protested after a few minutes.

“You’re hungry, you’ve been out here doing nothing all day! Did you even eat breakfast?”

“No.” Merlin whined guiltily. “I was busy.”

“Well you can be busy more tomorrow. Today, we are going to finish eating, and we’re going to play a game of chess in which I will of course let you win and then you will say ‘Lancelot you let me win, let’s play another game.’ And I will ignore the fact that Lancelot isn’t my name like usual, and we’ll play a second game. I’ll win that one because you’re new, and then you’ll get frustrated and go to bed, and when you wake up in the morning, everyone will be in a better mood.” He grinned at Merlin.

Lance was so well-meaning that Merlin couldn’t justifiably refuse him, so he nodded. They finished their food quickly, having been chilled by a late evening breeze, and went inside. The chess table was taken by a new patient who hadn’t yet been told that it unofficially belonged to Lance.

“Could we have that?” Merlin asked the newcomer as he sat down. He recognised Merlin from that morning and moved aside instantly with an unsubtle wince and apologised for his loss. “I have lost nothing.” Merlin hissed, his frustration returning, “Arthur will return soon.” The boy apologised again and hurried across the room to get as far away from Merlin as possible.

Lance sat down across from Merlin cautiously. “Merlin, he didn’t mean to insult you.”

“His information was false, and I corrected him.” Merlin shot back angrily, slamming a pawn down two spaces ahead on the board.

“White moves first, Merl-” Lance began to say, but thought better of it. Merlin wasn’t feeling well, it probably wasn’t the best time to be correcting his chess techniques.

“Go ahead.” Merlin told Lance who then moved a pawn so that Merlin could take it with his own. Merlin glared. “You may be letting me win this one, but you don’t have to make it so obvious.”

“Sorry, should I move something else?”

“No, I’ll allow this one.” Merlin took Lance’s pawn, grinning like he’d gotten away with something fantastic that required great skill to pull off. “I may be new to this, but I learn fast; you might not need to let me win.” Merlin's bad temper had been replaced quickly with an attitude of magnificent smugness. Lance couldn’t be sure which was more annoying.

“We’ll see about that.” Lance said with a laugh. “I am very competitive.”

“Well, I’m Merlin.”

“That you are.” Lance moved a knight inadvertently into the path of Merlin's pawn, distracted by a scream from across the hall. “Damn. You’re going to hold me to the once-you-let-go rule aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t going to, but I will now.” 

“Jerk.”

Merlin laughed and took the piece. After a few seconds, he suddenly realised where his piece had landed, right in front of another pawn, locked. “OH! You did that on purpose didn’t you!?” 

Now it was Lance’s turn to laugh. “I actually didn’t, but wasn’t it clever? See chess is tricky like that.” Lance took Merlin's pawn with a grin.

Merlin moved another pawn out with a huff. “I’m going to lose.”

“No, there’s no way to know who’ll win now. Well, I’m sure some fancy super-trained expert could tell somehow, but not me or you.” Lance made his play.

“Hmm.” Merlin considered the board with a nod. “What would you suggest I move?”

“I can’t tell you what to move! And besides you only have the queen, knights, and pawns open, not really a huge amount of choice.”

“Yes… well I’ll… hmph…” Merlin was stumped, and his mind wasn’t really on the game anyway. He couldn’t focus on something so useless and irrelevant to the greater scheme of things, when he needed to be working on getting Arthur back as soon as possible. He moved a pawn out in frustration just to do something besides sit there looking confused. 

Lance moved another piece but Merlin wasn’t really looking. “This is nothing like a real battle.” Merlin peered at the board decisively, trying to determine what about this game was in any way related to a war; and how, if it was based on war strategy, his experience with Arthur didn’t seem to be helping him at all. “Real battles are messy and unorganised; no one takes turns, and no one comes out unscathed.” He said with a grimace behind darkened eyes. “No matter what happens to you and no matter what you do, a part of you dies.”

Lance looked at him, concerned. “Merlin,”

Merlin looked up again, darkness fading as he pasted a clearly fake smile on his face. Lance could see without effort that Merlin wasn’t okay, but he could only hope that tomorrow would be better. He knew as well anyone that when you’re convinced of the truth of something that isn’t true, it’s so easy to be hurt by someone contradicting it or taking away a key part of it. 

“Shall I take your knight then?” Merlin said as he swiped up the wooden horse, replacing it with his pawn, and trying desperately to not let Lance see his internal upset.

Lance smiled, “Good job, Merlin, you’re catching on.”


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin sat at a different table for breakfast that morning. He didn’t want to have to put on a fake semblance of happiness for everyone, it took more energy than he could muster up. Gwen had walked up to sit with him anyway, despite the knights telling her repeatedly Merlin didn’t want to be bothered.

Merlin gave her a reluctant nod, allowing her to sit down. “You’ll be okay after a while, you know.” Gwen smiled and handed Merlin her apple.

“I appreciate that you want to help, Gwen, but I really don’t see what possible experience you might have in my situation.”

“I’ve had boyfriends before. I know you and Arthur aren’t…you know,” she chortled. Merlin was not amused, and made it very clear, “but you’re really close, so it’s kind of similar.” She finished.

“Not quite. When you cease courting, it is a choice. You don’t have a doctor forcing you to leave each other forever.”

“Yeah.” Gwen acknowledged. “Still. You’ve lost someone, and it can help to talk about it.”

“Sometimes. But other times it’s easier to think alone with yourself first.” Merlin said kindly, subtly indicating that the conversation was over.

Gwen patted his hand and went back their regular table to sit with Lance and Percy. Merlin tried not to listen to them but couldn’t help but pick out their familiar voices from the crowd.

“I’m worried about him.” Lance announced once Gwen had seated herself.

“Merlin and Arthur come as a pair, together or not at all.” Percy pointed out, between bites of the greyish oatmeal usually served for breakfast, “I guess the new doctor fellow knows what he’s doing, but I don’t see how this is good for anyone.” 

Merlin was so angry at the normality of everything. Everyone was acting the same, the food was the same, the nurses were all doing the same things. Did they not see what was going on? Everything was out of place in Merlin's mind, but the looking glass of the world around him seemed warped, not right, like it was reflecting a different image than the one in front of it.

“Maybe we could talk to Morgan?” Gwen suggested, “If she knows what’s really going on than maybe-,”

“No, it’s only been one day, she’ll just think we’re overreacting.” Lance interjected.

“Let’s give it a few days before we resort to that, yeah?” Percy put in, “If he keeps acting like this though I think we should definitely speak with her.”

“Well, I can’t believe this is what Warlow thought would happen.”

“What if? What if Merlin has been right the whole time? What if he does want this? What if we just doubted him because he’s delusional, but really he was right and we just didn’t pick up on it because –“ Gwen was starting to get hysterical, but didn’t get the chance before she was interrupted.

Merlin had had enough. He wasn’t going to let them make decisions like this for him. If anyone was going to talk to Morgan about his own condition, it would be him. He stood up abruptly, and spoke clearly, with purpose and strength. “I am still in the room, and though I might be ‘delusional’ I can still hear. I am not a child,” he barked, “I can take care of myself, and if I need to talk to Morgan I will, but it is no one else’s decision!”

With that he stormed out of the canteen, ignoring the prickle of twenty-something eyes on the back of his neck. Some were judgemental, some worried, but he didn’t really care either way. He didn’t need anyone to look out for him, he was his own person; whether a shrink thought otherwise was of little to no consequence to him.

Merlin just heard Percy call after him as he turned the corner. “I don’t want to speak to you right now.” Merlin spun on his heel to go the other way.

“Well, you have to talk to someone, you can’t sulk in your room for the rest of your life because Arthur isn’t here.”

“I can sulk for a month if I want to” Merlin pouted.

“Do you think Arthur is sitting in whatever room he has at Camlann being moody? Come on Merlin, sit with us and finish your breakfast, Arthur wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

“How do you know Arthur’s mind? I barely know Arthur’s mind sometimes and I’ve known him as long as I can remember.” He tried to continue walking towards his room, but Percy caught his arm.

“I can call an orderly.” He warned.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I will if I have to. Don’t make me have to.” Merlin looked into Percy’s eyes, judging whether he would follow through with his threat. Merlin decided he didn’t want to risk it and begrudgingly followed him back to the canteen. 

“I won’t stay long.” He said, glowering, angry that Percy had used a hypothetical Arthur as a bargaining chip, but more angry that it was working.

“Well when you leave, I’ll go with you.” Percy assured him. He was honestly well meaning, but Merlin couldn’t figure out why no one would just leave him alone. He wasn’t exactly what one would call a good conversationalist right now. 

Merlin rolled his eyes in a last failed effort to convince Percy he wasn’t worth following around everywhere. “Fine.”

They returned to the table where Gwen was giggling once more at one of Lance’s bad jokes he was so fond of. Percy sat down by his bowl calmly, pleased that he had calmed Merlin down. Merlin, perceptive as ever even in light of his temper, dropped onto the seat with a thud in retaliation for his smugness.

Without a thought, Lance blurted out “Not feeling better then?” despite already knowing the reply, and knowing it wasn’t going to help the situation.

“No, Lancelot, I wonder what gave you that impression.” Merlin replied sardonically.

“Sorry.” Lance put his hands up in apology. “Just a question.”

“A petulant one.” Merlin used his extensive vocabulary especially well when he was in a bad mood, and though he was usually more subdued and not often in such a mood, Lance had seen it enough times to recognise it. “I’m only here because once I leave Percy has promised to tail me like an overexcited puppy, so I am forced to stay.”

“That’s not really what I said, Merlin. I think I actually said it’s best for you to not be alone.”

“Well. It’s close enough isn’t it.” Merlin frowned. “I don’t see why I’m not allowed to be alone to think for a while, I’m sure if I were in some danger a nurse would have me restricted to a certain area quite strictly.”

“It’s only been one day since Arthur left, they don’t expect anything to be wrong yet, and they’re giving you time to adjust either way before they do anything.” Lance said again. He must be trying to convince himself of this, Merlin thought, or he wouldn’t say it so much.

“Because Warlow who has complete and totally control over me has always been shown to have my best interests at heart.”

“Merlin, you don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s got all sorts of fancy degrees and training and education, he definitely knows what he’s doing, maybe it just doesn’t work if he explains it to you?” Gwen was really too sweet for her own good. One day someone is going to hurt her and she’d be so trusting she wouldn’t question them for a millisecond. 

“I don’t need to read minds to know not to believe what Warlow says, he told me Merlin wasn’t real. I’m Merlin, so please tell me how Merlin could possibly not be real.” Merlin thought this was really a rather good point for the uselessness of Dr. Martin Warlow; he was so full of suspicion that he couldn’t even trust that someone was telling the truth about their own name. 

Percy, Lance, and Gwen sat across from him stiffly, as if trying very hard not to say something clearly on all of their minds.

“What? Is my logic flawed?” Merlin asked incredulously. He had no idea what they could possibly be so taken aback by. Gwen began to speak but stopped, remembering Lance’s warning a few days ago. Merlin sat still, confused and bewildered. The moment had been too long to pass off as a mere awkward silence such as happens frequently in daily conversation. There was something to it, and Merlin needed to know what it was that his friends were so terrified to tell him. 

He forced himself to calm down, put on a mask of seeming ignorance, and put aside his anger. There was nothing it could do for him now. “There is something I am missing, clearly.” He said through gritted teeth, trying his hardest not to be angry, “Could you please enlighten me?”

“It’s not really that simple, Merlin, could we leave it for a while, and tell you later? When Arthur gets back maybe?” Lance suggested with a reassuring look shining in his dark brown eyes. “It’s just that it concerns both of you, and it’s very important, but we might not be the right people to tell you, and I don’t even know how we would say it.”

Merlin looked at him intently, so many people have been hiding things from him in the last few days, and he wasn’t sure if he should choose to keep another thing hidden if he had the choice.

“Is it a dangerous thing?” if it could be damaging, he would leave it for now. He knew he was upset still from the sudden departure of his second half, it probably wasn’t a good idea to take on one more burdensome thing that would only serve to bother him persistently. He looked at Percy.

“Very possibly. I don’t know for certain because I don’t have the right education, but I don’t think it could be beneficial.” 

“If you’re sure, then I trust your judgement. But please don’t keep the secret forever. Whatever it is, I deserve to know.” Merlin surprised himself with his placid compliance with this agreement. He knew better than many that secrets are like rotting meat: the longer you keep them, the more harm they do.

“Thank you, Merlin.” Gwen looked at him, large shimmering emerald eyes smiling for her. “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been acting so awful today, I’m just. Not there.” He lowered his eyes, half in shame, and half out of tiredness. It still was not yet noon but it felt like midnight. It had felt like midnight since the metal carriage faded from view, taking Arthur with it.

The rest of the day, Merlin focused on not having another outburst. They did no one any good, and they were tiring. He spent several days simply trying to stay calm and quiet, and avoiding thinking about Arthur at all costs. He couldn’t sit and worry over what was going on at Camlann. Arthur wouldn’t be hurt, and it had only been a week, they couldn’t have done anything major to him yet anyway. These doctors may be good at manipulation, but Arthur was clever and he could work around their Socratic talk easily; they’d been doing it together for three years, it couldn’t be much more difficult to do it alone.

Merlin told himself all of this every day. It became a sort of mantra. ‘Arthur is fine. Arthur is fine, and I’m fine. We’re both okay.’ He repeated this in his head when he woke up, and before he tried to sleep another restless night. He repeated it any time something reminded him of Arthur, and any time someone mentioned his name. He repeated it every time he saw Warlow, and every time he passed, entered, or left his office. ‘Arthur is fine, no one can get to him. Arthur is fine. I’m fine. Everyone is okay, and nothing is going to happen to anyone.’

 

Grey fog swirled around Merlin, a pale yellow light half-blinding him as it filtered through the tiny droplets of water. He blinked adjusting his eyes to the glow. In the distance was a figure, Merlin thought it reminded him of someone, so he walked toward it. 

As he reached the figure he realised he had never met this woman, she was young but age was written in her eyes in the clearest blue ink. Her long hair was a pale blonde and was laced over her shoulders elegantly, covering a pure white dress with small red details woven throughout. She walked barefoot upon wet grass that Merlin hadn’t seen before.  
“Merlin, how nice to see you.” She said kindly. She bore no expression, no means of identification, and he didn’t know how she knew his name but Merlin felt he could trust her nonetheless.

He didn’t say anything, but followed her as she took him further into the fog, ever closer to the elusive source of the pale yellow light.

“Where are we going?” he asked quietly after he felt like they had been walking for quite some time. A landmark of any sort had yet to reveal itself, and the fog grew no thinner or  
thicker. The only noticeable change was that the grass beneath his feet, also barefoot, had become dry sandy soil which seemed in direct contrast with the wet air. The entire place seemed somehow to defy nature; though there were no definable points of strangeness, everything appeared unearthly.

“We are almost there.” Her voice was a whisper and a shout all at once combined into a sing song melody.

Merlin looked up into the distance again, and was surprised to find a stone font only a few feet ahead of him. He stopped suddenly; it had come out of nowhere. 

“Look into the pool.” The woman pointed to the shallow dip in the font, which was filled with cloudy blue-green water, which Merlin now realised was the source of the yellow light. He had expected it to be brighter as he got closer, but he found that it had dulled to a faint glow as he looked deeper into the water.

He saw behind the swirling clouds of green a blurry image begin to fade into view. He could just make out a sparsely furnished, white, square room, with a small bed in the corner fitted with hospital green bedding. Sitting stiffly on the end of the bed, was Arthur.

He was fiddling with Merlin's bracelet on his wrist nervously. He looked ill, but there was still a shining blip of defiance in his eyes that Merlin could see even through the cloudy veil of the world through which he looked. It was flickering, beginning to dim, but it was there.

There was no sound in this vision, but Merlin knew that the door had opened. A nurse in similar blue dresses to those of the nurses at Greall Twr stepped into the picture. Arthur looked at her and stood up hesitantly. He followed her out of the room and the water in the font clouded up once more, obscuring anything else from view.

“That was Arthur.” Merlin said to no one in particular once he was sure nothing more would appear in the stoney mirror of the woman’s pedestal. “Was it real?”

“As real as you wish it to be. No person sees the same thing, and no person can know what another saw.” Her musical voice echoed off of a distant, invisible wall. 

“Then how do you know what I saw?” Merlin turned to look at her.

“I am the keeper of the isle. I see all that transpires here.”

Merlin opened eyes he didn’t know were closed, to see the popcorn ceiling of his room. He still wanted to ask the mysterious woman more questions. He didn’t know how to interpret what he had seen. He had seen Arthur sitting on a bed, and leaving a room. Surely this wasn’t significant.

He lay there quietly for a few moments longer, trying to decipher the message he had been given by the keeper of the unknown isle. If there was a message at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats all i wrote!  
> if anyones especially curious how it was going to end u can pm me on tumblr at keepthemacramesecret and i'll tell u :)


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